Mrs. Daisy, the screen brings no good ones,
a messenger leaving a notebook of sole yearnings,
scraped by thorns of abandonment.
Mrs. Daisy, curtains were being pushed opened
towards the dawn of a start-
LIES! I didn´t see the sun´s release, shining, Mrs. Daisy,
a temporary eclipsing of my undyingly decaying shining.
Oh, Mrs. Daisy, guess I don´t fit my sex´s conventions.
I´m unable to keep up with a constellation of fashion,
It became a swathed murmur of fire under water.
Mrs. Daisy, I don´t see the sun´s release,
I´ve held to morning´s light too long.
Why won´t I let it go? For the sake of mourning?
I´ve lost a beating in the darkness of this yearning.
Dear Mrs. Daisy, my name is patience, of eternal desire.
I walk through this turn up hallways, under a blemished sky,
holding the bright darkness of a feeble soul,
sack of stones and bones,
buried under a hole, deep with endless thwart,